


Contract Negotiations

by Dangereuse



Series: Tomarry D&D-athon [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore is on Tom's shit list, Dark!Harry, Hitman!AU, I have no idea how much a hitman would actually cost, In that there are contract killers and murder-for-hire situations, M/M, Tom wants someone to do the dirty work for him, Wetwork is the best work, although now I am imagining one on the back of Voldie's head, and that's definitely something I'm going to table for another time, not that anyone has a barcode on the back of their bald head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23537878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangereuse/pseuds/Dangereuse
Summary: The hitman Lucius recommended did not inspire confidence.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Tomarry D&D-athon [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692079
Comments: 11
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

The hitman Lucius recommended did not inspire confidence.

Harry met him in a parking lot of Costa Coffee. He looked about eighteen, wearing a hideously oversized jumper and jeans with holes in the knees. Tom had passed him over on first inspection, slowly beginning to fume about tardiness from hired help when the man strolled over to him.

He greeted Tom effusively from around a bright red lolly, and then basically strong armed him inside the coffee chain. Tom felt like shedding his skin just going inside. He did not _do_ chain coffee.

Harry ordered some oversugared, over-caffeinated monstrosity and then insisted loudly that Tom get something too, really, his treat. Tom ended up with a tepid over-brewed soup bowl of a cuppa. It was never going to touch his lips.

Tom felt whatever hope he’d felt originally slowly take laps around the toilet. This couldn’t be the man Lucius had whispered about in such awed tones.

(“He murdered my father,” Lucius had leaned in over his brandy cheerfully. “You know that nasty business with Draco and that chav boy from uni? Said he was in love? Abraxas was going to disown him then. Drew up the papers and everything.”

“Lucius,” Tom had scoffed. “Your father died of pneumonia, in this very manse. I was there.”

“No,” Lucius smirked, the crests of his ridiculous cheekbones slightly pink from the brandy. “I said not to make it look suspicious, and he _delivered_.”)

Tom didn’t see how this man could deliver anything.

“So,” the man pulled the bright red lolly from his mouth with an obnoxious popping sound. His lips were reddened and slightly swollen from the candy. Tom had never felt more like sneering in his life. He kept his cool by imagining what a dressing down he was going to give Lucius. “Tom. Who do you want me to pop off?”

Tom hissed and looked around. Harry rolled his eyes. “There’s terrible acoustics in this back booth, mate.” He waggled his eyebrows and Tom could feel his foot nudge between Tom’s perfectly pressed trouser legs. “I could suck you off under the table and no one would even notice a thing.”

Tom recoiled in his chair. “That will not be necessary.” He clipped.

Harry shrugged, drew his foot back. “Fair enough.” He popped the lolly back in his mouth. Tom couldn’t stop staring. It was a car wreck.

Maybe he should just do it himself. It couldn’t be that hard, if this man managed it regular. Tom had offed his father and his family long ago. But setting the scene for a burglary had been tiring and and really, wasn’t manual labor what other people were _for_?

“So?” Harry prodded. “Who is it? Got a pic?”

Tom cleared his throat, considering. “Are you sure you’re not law enforcement?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Mate, do you reckon I look like the police?”

No. No he did not. Tom couldn’t imagine this man had a job at all, frankly, with how loosely he was sprawling in the booth across. Maybe as a prostitute, with how much attention he was giving that lolly.

“Look, mate, you’re good looking in an arseholish sort of way. But I’m on a schedule.” He tapped a bare wrist _that didn’t even have a watch_.

Tom gaped for a good moment at the very idea of this man having a schedule, much less one more important than Tom’s.

Tom blinked. Well, at least he could inquire after pricing. “Yes. Well. I’d rather like you to kill Albus Dumbledore.”

Harry’s whole body language changed, pulling in his limbs from his sprawl in the booth, folding them in front of him on the table. “He’s been running those defamation adverts on you on the telly. Bringing up those two kids who went missing from the orphanage. Talking about your retail jobs in the gap year you took and saying that Smith woman was your sugar mama.”

Tom flushed bright red, and his hands formed into fists. “Essentially, yes.” He bit out, trying to keep his temper under wraps.

Harry considered him, gaze piercing. For the first time Tom thought Lucius was on to something. Harry was still, so still Tom wasn’t sure he was breathing, was blinking. It made the flesh on the back of his neck crawl. He had the abrupt sense he was being surveilled by a predator.

Then Harry blurred back into motion again, an over loud idiot once more. Tom wasn’t fooled. “I’m sure you want to make sure it isn’t tied to you.”

“Yes, obviously.” Tom drawled. “It would hardly improve my ratings to be associated with a murder-for-hire.”

Harry grinned at him, smile sharp and vicious. Abruptly, his jaw snapped and he crunched the lolly with sharp little teeth. 

“Alright. £100,000 upfront, £100,000 upon completion. I take direct wire.”

“Reasonable, I’m sure.” Tom was shamming blandly pleasant, utterly certain he didn’t want that cold predator focused on him once more.

“Good.” Harry leaned in, stage whispered to Tom: “Satisfaction guaranteed.”


	2. Not Continuation Fluff Bit

Tom carefully rolled out of bed, put on his best silk robe. He dithered for a moment over pants, and then decided against. Today was the day, and that called for a certain decadence. He'd laid in strawberries and champagne for breakfast.

Tom strolled down the hallway, nearly whistling, and made his way to the kitchen. He didn't like having help in his home, so he had his staff leave all his meals neatly marked in the fridge, and they only tidied when he was not there. Lucius told him regularly it was the most obvious indicator of his plebeian upbringing, but it made him uncomfortable to have other people in his privacy.

Tom nonchalantly turned on the giant telly in his kitchen, and then opened a pastry box to root for a particularly satisfying danish. He took a large, self-satisfied bite, and turned to the muted screen. People were arguing on it, getting worked up into a good rage, but Tom noticed the huge bright blue ticker tape at the bottom of the screen.

BREAKING NEWS: INFLUENTIAL LOBBYIST ALBUS DUMBLEDORE ASSASSINATED DURING PRESS CONFERENCE REVEALING NEW INFLAMMATORY MATERIAL ABOUT MINISTERIAL CANDIDATE TOM RIDDLE

His mouth popped open and the danish fell out.

Tom was scrambling for his cell phone. The private one he kept for friends. He dialed Lucius with furiously trembling fingers. It took six rings for Lucius to pick up--unacceptable--and when he did it was with a groggy “Tom?”

“Albus Dumbledore was murdered today, by a bullet through the head, during a bloody press conference. This is not unobvious! This is the opposite of unobvious. This is obvious!” Tom whisper-hissed in his cell phone. Lucius was making groggy noises. “This is unacceptable! It looks just like a contract kill that I ordered!”

“I know, right.” A voice said, over by his pastry box. “Mind if I have one of these?” Harry didn't wait, plucking out a succulent looking danish and taking a huge bite. He didn’t chew with his mouth completely closed.

Tom dropped the cell phone from his ear, leaving it on. If he died, shot by the hitman he had hired himself, at least Lucius would know.

And do absolutely nothing about it, in all likelihood.

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “This is good stuff!” He gestured animatedly, hands still full of danish.

Tom stayed absolutely still.

Harry scarfed down his danish in another bite and a half, then licked his fingers. “Mmm.”

Tom could hear Lucius making tinny concerned noises through the phone.

“So,” Harry said, after one last salubrious lick. “I take my satisfaction guarantee pretty seriously. And obvi.” He gestured at the muted telly screen. “You can’t be.” Harry shook his head, muttered. “The complete lack of professional courtesy. Swiping my mark out from under me." Harry paused, getting quite red in the face. “Doing such a shite job!”

“You didn’t kill Albus Dumbledore,” Tom breathed, getting excited. “Somebody else called the hit.” He lifted the phone, back to Lucius. “There’s some other idiot out there who did it. We need to get the blame on them as soon as possible. I want us to have a complete statement by ten o'clock. Get me investigators. We need to find out who did it and _crucify them._ “

Harry put his hands behind his head, flexed into an indecent stretch. “If that’s how you want me to kill ‘em, sure. Probably sends a better message than a bullet.”


End file.
